Beautiful Monster(46)

              But just as I was about to make my move, Porsche, already 12 years into her dance training and on the brink of her own fame, grabbed me, her confidence enhanced by her popularity. She recognized me, of course, everyone still did, and she knew she wanted to land the superstar at the party. But when she touched me, everything disappeared. My cravings and fangs receded and my body began to warm up. She is one of the most powerful Shields to ever live, and she was unclaimed, living in solidarity as well.
              Her identity and skill must also be kept a secret. While supernatural beings can use Shields to protect them and even seek them out, Shields are also mortal and usually their powers intensify in illness, like Porsche. Once claimed by a supernatural being - a witch, a werewolf, a vampire - they usually don’t survive past the first battle simply because their mortality stands out in a room full of immortals.
              I didn’t want to go to battle with her. What I wanted was a friend who could understand me and  help guide me through this supernatural life. I didn’t claim her, didn’t take her to a witch to put a binding spell on us. There was no need for formalities. Our friendship began on shocked common ground and remained strong on the understanding that we needed each other.#p#分页标题#e#
              It was Porsche who told me how to survive as a vampire. Together, we figured out everything I needed to know. We figured out when the transformation started and stopped; we figured out that animal blood could do it, if need be. We managed to separate what we thought were myths about vampires from facts. We could walk in sunlight. We breathe, eat, drink and sleep in sunlight. We are alive in the daytime, only cursed at night.  At night, we are immortal creatures with no heart beat or pulse; just a thirst for blood. The legends were correct in the weapons of our death. Wooden stakes through the heart and fire were our bane. Decapitation also worked, although that was hard; with our veins hardening and our muscles turning partially to stone every night. Even minor good things, like having a horrid cold during the day and feeling fine at night, didn’t cheer me up.
              Selfishly wanting to keep her by my side; wanting someone to understand, I gave her the first scholarship that was mine to give so she could remain at the school and help me. Peter retired at the end of the term, giving me the position of headmaster.  He was thinking of doing it anyway, and with my arrival and lack of ability to return, he saw the perfect opportunity. The role of Headmaster suited me perfectly. I could teach the classes I wanted, put on the shows I loved, and I was important enough to blow everyone off at night. My reputation as an arrogant egotistic actor only came in handy, as people gave me the space I needed once the sun went down.
              The reputation at the Academy only grew with my presence, and within six months, we were the biggest and the best. We could charge anything we wanted, and people would pay. Our productions became on par with Broadway and the West End. Even when Porsche left for the Russian National Ballet, visiting only occasionally, I thought I would be fine. I had settled into a life that made me happy. I could survive this. I figured out I needed to be locked away. I didn’t want to cause a scene anymore; I didn’t want to kill or leave bodies; or have any more attention. I could live on animals most nights and no one got hurt. Except me.
              And that’s when Selene started to show up again. She only came at night when I was locked away feeding on a rabbit or a squirrel.   And she was even more irresistible than the first night I met her. By night, both in our demon form, she had power over me as my sire. It was like I was a puppet and she was my master. When she was here, I was under her spell and she owned every inch of me. She asked for the key to the chains and I told her where it was without hesitation. When she appeared, we would roam the streets with my mind under her influence and my hand locked in hers.
I would spend weeks in depression after she left; my human emotions coming strong when the sun rose. Covering up those deaths, deaths that I know I caused, was the hardest of all. Occasionally, I considered turning myself in and giving the families some peace. But I couldn’t bring myself to do it … not with the repercussions it would cause.